From Blood and Ash (Blood And Ash Series Book 1)

Not everything was a lie.

Which part?

The story about Hawke’s brother? The rest of his family? Farming his lands, and the caverns he used to explore as a child? That he’d been in love before and had lost? Or all the things he’d said about me?

Whatever he said that was true didn’t matter. It shouldn’t as I paced as far as the chains would allow, which was not very far at all.

After he’d left, I’d sat on the mattress and tried to sort truth from fiction, which had felt impossible. Somehow, even more improbable, I had drifted off to sleep. My mind hadn’t shut down, but my body had simply given out on me. I’d slept until the nightmares drove me awake, my screams echoing off the stone walls.

It had been so long since the memory of the night of my parents’ deaths had found me in sleep. That it would find me here was not at all surprising.

I brushed several loose strands of hair back from my face as I turned, careful to not tangle myself in the chains.

Maybe…maybe the Ascended were vamprys, created accidentally by the Atlantians. I could believe that. It seemed too much of an elaborate lie to not be real. And I could believe that Lord Mazeen had been the cause of Malessa’s death. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t capable of such cruelty.

And gods, I believed what Hawke had said about how he’d gotten the brand. Maybe not the part where the Queen had been the one to deliver it, nor what he’d been held for, but the rawness in his voice couldn’t be forced. He’d been held against his will, and he’d been used in ways even I couldn’t comprehend.

Believing that didn’t mean everything else he claimed was true. That the Ascended were feeding off mortals, sequestering them in temples and stealing into homes in the middle of the night to create Craven out of the ones they didn’t completely drain dry. How in the world would they have been able to keep that a secret? People would find out.

People could’ve found out already.

That is if that knowledge is what drove the Descenters to support the fallen kingdom of Atlantia.

I shook my head.

But that would mean that every Ascended was aware of what was happening. That not a single one had refused the Ascension once learning what it would cost. Not even my brother.

Our mother, though, she had refused the Ascension.

My heart tripped over itself.

She’d refused because she’d loved my father. Not because she’d learned the truth and had passed on it. She’d refused because of love, and the Dark One had still killed her.

Unless…unless the Duchess had lied about that. But why? Why would she have lied? The Dark One, Prince Casteel, controlled the Craven.

Except did the Craven appear as if they were controlled by anything but hunger? Never once had I seen them stop in the middle of an attack or display any true level of cognitive thinking.

But if that wasn’t true, if the Dark One couldn’t control them, then did that mean the Ascended were using them to control the populace? To stop them from asking too many questions, and make them willing to hand over their children so the gods wouldn’t become displeased, exposing their cities to a Craven attack?

It almost felt like I’d be struck down for even questioning that. Because Hawke was right. It was a religion.

I started pacing again.

How did the Craven make it to a town that hadn’t seen an attack in decades the moment I arrived with my family unless the Dark One had sent them?

It didn’t make any sense, and all of this back and forth was starting to make my head hurt. Even if some of what Hawke had claimed was true, it didn’t change that they were still responsible for so much death themselves.

It couldn’t all be true, because there was no way my soft, gentle brother would’ve Ascended if he knew what was being done. There was no way.

Hawke was…he was just messing with my head, making me weak-minded and uncertain. I wouldn’t put it past him.

I stopped, staring down at my hands. He was going to return me to the very people he claimed abused him. How horrible was that?

Dampness pressed at the backs of my eyes, but I drew in a deep breath. I would not cry. I wouldn’t shed a single tear for Hawke, for what may have been done to him, and for what he’d done to me. I wouldn’t allow it to break me. Not when he’d already shattered my heart.

The door at the end of the hall opened, and I lifted my head. Delano came into view, along with another man with rich brown skin. His eyes were the same golden brown as some of the others.

Atlantian.

“Glad you’re awake,” Delano said. “Didn’t want to disturb you earlier when I checked on you.”

I didn’t even want to think about the fact that he’d been down here while I slept.

“I’m going to open this door, and Naill and I are going to escort you to more comfortable arrangements,” he explained, and my brows rose. “And you’re not going to do anything foolish. Right?”

“Right,” I repeated, hope sparking.

Delano smiled. “That wasn’t even remotely convincing.”

“It really wasn’t,” Naill agreed. “Not that I can blame her. If that was me, I would be thinking this is a good chance for escape.”

Hope fizzled.

Delano’s smile faded. “You need to understand something, Maiden. I’m a wolven.”

“I figured that out already.”

“Then you have to know that the only reason you outran Kieran the day before is because he didn’t want to catch you. I will want to catch you.”

A shiver shimmied over my skin.

“I have impeccable tracking skills. There is nowhere you can run that I would not find you,” he continued.

“Truth is,” Niall said, drawing my gaze to his high, sharp cheekbones, “I’m even faster than he is, and neither of us wants to harm you. That will unfortunately happen if you run because I have a feeling you will somehow turn empty air into a weapon, and we’d have to defend ourselves. I doubt he will make a distinction between us wanting to hurt you and us being forced to by trying to defend ourselves.”

My nostrils flared on the ragged breath I exhaled. I didn’t care what he wanted, did, or thought.

“He’d have us pinned to the walls in the Hall, and both of us enjoy breathing and having all our body parts. So, please, be nice,” Delano said, unlocking the door. “Because even though losing my hand or certain death would be terrible, I abhor the idea of having to strike a female.” He stepped into the cell. “Even someone as apparently dangerous as you.”

I smiled at him, and it wasn’t exactly a nice expression. It came because I was glad that they knew I was dangerous.

But I also wasn’t stupid. I wouldn’t be able to run from them. I knew that. There was no point in me getting myself hurt just to make things difficult. Even I could recognize that.

I lifted my wrists, rattling the chains.

Delano eyed me as he fished out a key from his tunic pocket and unhooked the shackles. They slipped, clanging off the hard-packed ground.

Naill turned away first, his head cranking toward the entrance, and then Delano followed suit. And there I was, my eyes fastened to the sword attached to Delano’s waist, and my hands unbound.

“Shit,” Naill said, and that drew my attention.

Delano let out a low rumble of warning that made my skin crawl. “What the fuck are you doing down here, Jericho?”

My breath caught as I saw the tall form drift out of the shadows.

“Taking a stroll,” he said.

“Bullshit,” Naill spat. “You’re down here by yourself. You’re here for her.”

I tensed as Jericho looked over at me. “You’re wrong,” he said. “And you’re right.”

Footsteps came from the entrance, and I heard Delano curse again.

“I am here for her,” Jericho said. “But I’m not alone.”

No, he wasn’t. There were six men with him, all staying close to the shadows.

“You’re being incredibly stupid,” Naill pointed out, blocking the door.

Jericho stared at me through the bars. “Perhaps.”

“I know you think you’re owed your pound of flesh. She cut you.”

“Twice,” I chimed in.

Delano sent me a look that said I wasn’t helping.

Jericho sneered. “Don’t forget the hand.” He lifted his left arm. “There’s that.”

“That’s on you,” Delano answered. “Not her.”

“Yeah, well, can’t take it out on the Prince, now can I?” Jericho said, and I frowned, having thought it had been Hawke who’d taken his hand.

“Do you understand he will have your head if you harm her? All of your heads?” Delano said. “He said no one is to hurt her. You try to do what you want to do, all of you will die. Is that what you want, Rolf? Ivan?” He rattled off the names of those who were hidden. “He will see this as a betrayal, but you still have a chance to walk away from this with your lives. You won’t if any of you take a step forward.”

None of them moved to leave.

One advanced, an older man with brown eyes. “She’s the fucking Maiden, Delano. She was raised as an Ascended, by the damn Queen herself, practically. The Ascended took my son in the middle of the godsdamn night.”

“But she did not take your son,” Naill replied.

“I get that the Prince wants to use her to free his brother, but you and I both know, Malik is most likely dead,” Jericho tossed out. “And if he’s not, it probably isn’t a good thing. He’s got to be so fucked up by now that he has no idea who he is.”

“But if we send her back to the bloodsucking Royals, we send one hell of a powerful message,” another argued. “It will shake them. We need that advantage.”

“And we want it,” the one who was called Rolf said. “You have to. Those bastards killed your whole den, Delano. Your mother. Your father. Your sisters weren’t so lucky. They waited a while before they killed them—”

“I know exactly what was done to my family,” snarled Delano, and I felt my stomach twist. “But that does not change the fact that I will not allow you to hurt her.”

“She was standing next to Duke and Duchess Teerman,” a voice came, sending a chill down my spine. “She stood there when they told my wife and I that our son was to be given to the gods. She just stood there and did nothing.”

I stumbled back a step when the man who spoke stepped out of the shadows. It was Mr. Tulis. So jarred by his appearance, I couldn’t do anything but stare at him.

He looked at me then, with hatred in his eyes. “You cannot tell me you didn’t know what they were doing. You cannot tell me that you had no idea what happened to our children!” he shouted. “What was happening to the people who went to bed and never woke up? You had to know what they were.”

I opened my mouth, and the only thing I could say was, “Is your son with you now?”

“The Ascended will never get their hands on Tobias,” he vowed. “We will not lose another to them.”

Rattled as my gift came alive, I was barely able to pay attention to what Delano said. “And you would betray the Prince, who aided your family in escape? Who made sure that your child could grow and thrive?”

Mr. Tulis didn’t take his eyes off me. “I would do anything to feel the blood of the Ascended flowing on my hands.”

“I’m not an Ascended,” I whispered.

“No,” he sneered, brandishing a knife. “You’re just their whole future.”

I wanted to tell him that I planned to go to the Queen on their behalf, but I didn’t get the chance. Not that it would’ve made a difference. Not with that kind of loathing radiating out from him.

“Don’t do this,” Delano warned, unsheathing his sword.

“He’ll get over it,” Jericho said. “And if we have to kill you two to make sure he never finds out, then so be it. It’s your grave. Not mine.”

Everything happened so fast.

Rolf pushed Mr. Tulis back as Naill struck like a coiled viper, grabbing the larger man by the chest. Naill sank his teeth into his neck, tearing, ripping—

A man crashed into Naill, pulling him free from Rolf, who stumbled into the bars. Blood poured, and the man laughed. “You bit me.” He threw his arms out as his back bowed, cracked. “You actually bit me,” he said, the last of his words turning to gravel as his knees bent. He snarled, going down on all fours.

Naill kicked the man off, baring his fangs in a hiss that sounded so cat-like that I thought of the predator I’d seen in the cage all those years ago.

The cave cat that Hawke always reminded me of.

Naill flew at the man, taking him to the ground as Delano turned to me. “Kill any of them that get close to you.” He threw his sword at me, and I caught it in surprise as he turned back to those gathering at the cell door.

Delano shifted, splitting his shirt up his back as he fell forward, his lengthening hands smacking against the ground as white fur sprouted in a blinding flash over his mammoth form.

In a heartbeat, a massive wolven stood beside me just as others appeared in the hall.

“It’s a party,” Jericho said, and whatever hope I had that they were going to help ended right there. He winked at me. “You’re popular.”

“And I have two hands,” I retorted.

The smirk faded from his face.

Rolf came into the enclosure, and Delano crashed into him. They rolled across the cell, a ball of brown and white fur. Delano gained the upper hand, snapping his teeth inches from Rolf’s.

Naill snatched up one of the men in a run. He turned, slamming the man into the bars with such force that it cracked the iron. That man went down, and he didn’t get back up.

The Atlantian turned, reaching for one of the others who’d slipped past into the cell. One quick glance at the eyes—neither ice-blue nor golden amber—told me that I was squaring off with a mortal. The one who’d spoken first.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said.

“That’s okay,” he said, holding a wicked sickle-shaped sword. “But I want to hurt you.”

He charged forward with a cry, and it was all too easy to step aside. I spun, bringing the hilt of the sword down on the back of his head, knocking him out. Maybe doing a little more damage. I didn’t want to acknowledge that his words had affected me so greatly that I hadn’t delivered a purposely fatal blow.

What came through next wasn’t mortal. It was a large, brindle-colored wolven. Lips peeled back, vibrating with its snarl as it bared huge teeth.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

The wolven launched itself at me. I jumped back, swinging out. The edge of the sword nicked the side of the creature as he hit the wall and immediately jumped off. I spun in a panic, arcing out with the sword. It caught the massive beast in the stomach this time. Yanking on the sword, it wouldn’t budge as the wolven yipped and swiped out. I let go of the sword, but I wasn’t quick enough. Claws caught the front of my tunic, just below the neck. Cloth tore, and a sharp, stinging pain shot down my entire front.

Staggering back, I looked down to see half my shirt gaping open, and red dotting my exposed skin.

Naill rushed forward. “The sickle sword!” he yelled. “Get the—”

A man brought some kind of club down on the back of his head. Naill’s entire body spasmed as his eyes rolled back. He went down as I dove for the sickle sword.

There was a yelp as I rose. It was Delano. Blood matted his white fur, and I prayed it was Rolf’s.

Delano staggered to the side, and I knew then that it was not. It was Delano’s. One of his legs collapsed under him, and he went down as Rolf prowled toward him, shaking his large head.

I didn’t know why I did what I did next. I needed to focus on the others who were determined to murder me, but I shot forward, swinging the sickle sword down along the back of the wolven’s neck. The blade was so sharp that it sliced through sinew and bone like a knife through butter.

Rolf didn’t even yelp. There’d been no time for that.

And there had been no time to avoid the blow that landed in the middle of my back, knocking me to the ground. My back burned, but I held onto the sword, breathing through the fire that seemed to have ignited—

I screamed. Sharp daggers dug into my shoulder, roughly flipping me onto my back. Not daggers. Claws. I swung the sickle blade, and it sliced into the side of the wolven. Snarling, it scrambled off me, and I rolled, vision seeming to blur for a second as I pushed to my knee.

I never saw the boot coming.

Pain exploded along my ribs as the air punched out of my lungs. I fell to my side as fiery pain erupted along my left arm. I scuttled backward as I looked up.

Jericho prowled forward. “What did I promise?”

“Bathe in my blood.” I wheezed, thinking my ribs were definitely broken. “Feast on my entrails.”

“Yes.” He knelt down. “Yes, I—”

I swiped out with the sword. Jericho jerked back quickly, falling on his ass. He shouted, his body contorting and straightening.

“You bitch,” he spat, lifting his face. The sickle had split open his cheek and his forehead.

His eye.

“I’m going to rip you in two.”

“Will that help you grow back that hand?” I asked, rising to my feet. It hurt. “Or the eye?” I shuffled around him, giving him a wide berth as I turned—

I saw Mr. Tulis, and the strangest thing happened when my eyes met his. The next breath I took seemed to be swept away in an explosion of pain that came from my stomach. My entire body spasmed, and I dropped the sword.

Confused, I looked down. Something was in my stomach. A dagger. A dagger’s blade. I lifted my head. “I…I was…relieved when I didn’t see you and your son at the Rite.”

Mr. Tulis’s eyes widened as I reached down, pulling the dagger free, tearing a scream from my throat. I stepped back, trying to catch my breath as the blood ran down my legs. I turned, hearing Jericho climbing to his feet. His right hand…it didn’t look human anymore, and when it snapped out, I couldn’t even move fast enough. His claws sliced through the cloth and flesh, and my foot slipped on the floor now slick with blood—my blood.

My left leg gave way, and I went down. I tried to throw my arms out to catch myself, but they wouldn’t respond to the orders my brain was demanding. I fell, barely feeling the impact.

Someone laughed.

Get up.

I tried. I still held the dagger. I could feel it against my palm.

There…were cheers. I heard a cheer from someone.

Get up.

Nothing moved.

I shuddered at the gathering metallic taste in the back of my throat. I knew what that meant. I knew what being unable to move my arms or to stay on my feet meant.

Jericho’s bleeding face appeared above me, his shaggy hair matted with blood. “You know which part I’m going to start with? Your hand.” He picked up my arm. “I think I’ll keep it as a souvenir.” The glint of a blade appeared. “I know exactly how I’ll make use of it, too. What do you all think?” he asked.

Laughter greeted him, and someone suggested other parts to keep. Parts that brought forth more laughter.

I was dying.

All I could do was hope that it was fast, that I wouldn’t stay conscious through what was about to come.

“Better get started!” Jericho laughed as he swung the blade down.

The blow never landed.

At first, I thought it was simply because I’d gone numb, but then I realized Jericho was no longer standing above me. There were sounds—shouts and growls. High-pitched yelps, and then I felt a warm puff of breath against the top of my head, over my cheek. I turned my head and saw pale blue eyes and fur as white as snow. The wolven nudged my cheek with its damp nose, and then it lifted its head and howled.

I blinked, and suddenly there was a shadow falling over me. Above me, Kieran loomed. “Shit,” he said. “Get the Prince. Get him now.”